Dreams
by Nothingmuchtosay
Summary: Dean was used to dreaming about Cas. Just not like this.


**Title: **Dreams

**Rating:** NC-17

**Summary:** Dean was used to dreaming about Cas, just not like this.

**Spoilers: **s7ep17

* * *

Dean was used to dreaming about Cas.

Usually Dean's dreams were horror filled; a lake turned black, barely rippling water, with a lone trench coat floating, the insanity apparent in his brother's eyes. And blood. So much blood, still tinted black. But now when he dreamed the insanity was not in his brother's puppy brown eyes; it was in pools of deep blue. That was what terrified Dean the most; the _flatness_ in those eyes.

But lately Dean had been dreaming started taking a completely different path. At first it was subtle; he still dreamed of Cas's death, but the greens and blues in the memory started to become more vibrant and the blood started to become muted. Then the memory of death and betrayal started to melt away to be replaced by memory of his first meeting with Castiel Angel of the Lord. After that Dean started dreaming of moments with Castiel, who before Dean's very eyes (subconscious, whatever) morphed into Cas.

These dreams were a torment in and of itself because Dean was forced to always watch on the sidelines, forced to watch he and Cas make the same mistakes over and over and over again, until his freaky subconscious decided to go _another_ route. Starting, with of course, the visit to the strip club. But this time Dean's perverse freaky mind decided to improvise. The first hint that something was off in this dream was the fact that Dean was _inside_ the room with Cas and the stripper, which was normal because he just assumed that his brain was just envisioning what he could only imagine as a hilarious scene. And then the scene became decidedly _unfunny_.

In this version of Cas, Dean could tell that life had beaten the shit out of him, but instead of folding, each strike and blow had forged him harder and stronger and tougher. Cas was straight as steel now, nothing lingering of the baby angel he'd once been. Staring at dream Cas, the loss of innocence seemed a crime.

And on that note, the stripper that was still trying to feel up the buttoned up and stoic angel caught Dean's attention. She was leaning Cas, her breasts welling against her pink bra, showing as much as she could of the goods she had to offer. A very sexy example… who had lips the color of a ripe peach and hair the shade of brown that was near the color of Dean's. And what do you know. Cas's blue eyes had already locked onto her and he was smiling in a way Dean had never seen, it was almost _predatory_.

Dean slipped a hand into his worn leather jacket and pinched himself in an attempt to wake up. Man, nothing made him jones more for reality than Cas's evolving sex life.

And clearly his brain had a twisted sense of humor because there was no sudden jerk to alertness, no, instead Dean just stood there and couldn't look away from what was happening in front of him.

Then it got _really_ weird. The near naked stripper started to morph in front of Deans eyes; were there used to be a soft curvy back changed into a strong one defined by muscle. Her legs lost the coltishness and took on what could only be described as soccer legs. Her long hair became a mussed bob, and she (was it still a girl?) grew a few inches.

Not that Cas seemed to notice.

Which was strange.

Then Dean had the horrifying thought; _Cas_ wasn't actually doing this, _he_ was. And he couldn't look away from his former best friend and now an apparent male stripper. Not that his dream Cas seemed to notice because beneath the fly of his slacks, the bulge he was sporting was obvious. Dean tried once again to look away, wake up, get Cas to notice him, anything really to make the dream stop before it headed in a direction that Dean wasn't entirely comfortable with. But it was like he was frozen in place, an unseen specter just wanting in the crowd.

As Dean was forced to watch Cas started running his forefinger slowly down the man's arm. It escalated quickly when Cas reached out and pulled the man to him by his neck.

Dean was finally able to redirect his eyes to the interesting mark on the floor, but the refocusing didn't last. Not even a second later he was locked onto the pair who had moved along fairly quickly, the man was now on his knees and Cas had his hands bunched in his short hair. Cas was working his head, his hips flexing and releasing as he drilled his mouth.

And Dean realized something that he never thought of before.

Cas would be amazing at sex.

Judging by the muted sounds and the heart-stopping visual Dean's subconscious guessed at this and decided to force Dean to face this fact. Dean had to shift a little bit on his feet and an errant thought ran across his mind; one that he could not deal with at the moment. _He _wanted to be where the stripper was, on his knees, led by Cas's hands. He wanted to be the one whose mouth was full. He wanted to be responsible for making Cas lose control like that.

Man, what the hell was going on in his brain? Dean ripped his eyes away in fear of where his train of thought was going. He was straight! He like boobs and pussy and curves and…

Suddenly the ripple of a deep moan came across from the other side of the room and once again brought his eyes to the-

Cas's head had turned so that he was staring straight ahead, no longer looking down at the guy on his knees. And as blue eyes met green, Cas's eyes flashed… almost like he was turned on more by who was watching him, than the male stripper.

Dean's heart stopped and-

BOOM!

He woke up with a start. The textbook he had been resting on had fallen to the floor causing the commotion that woke him. Dean looked down and realized that the dream had affected him in more ways than one, and a cold shower was defiantly in the cards for today.

While he was in the shower trying to steadily ignore his rock hard erection that begged for attention, Dean tried to reason his way out of what he had been dreaming about, but to no avail. Before the shower he had run every test in the book, both heaven and hell and everything in-between, to determine if someone/something had placed a lust spell on him. He came up completely clean. But he didn't feel _gay_, there wasn't the slightest inclination to go out and bang some dude, it was just that it was _Cas_. Who literally knew Dean inside and out. And, Dean swallowed at the thought, who was gone forever, lost in his own mental prison. So yeah. Dean's mind decided that after the angel was completely unavailable; he wanted him. Great.

* * *

After that night and his freak out Dean dreamed of Cas and his mystery man (whose face Dean could never make out) every time he closed his eyes, each dream becoming more and more graphic; Cas fucking the man up against the wall, Cas using a butt plug on the man who couldn't seem to get enough, Cas marking the man every way he could, Cas Cas Cas. It got to the point that even the mention of the color blue got Dean hard.

It was enough to drive anyone mad; he was in a constant state of arousal that nothing seemed to sate; not girls, porn, or jerking off. By the third week of this phenomenon Dean realized that he had somehow bound himself to Cas, even if it was just in the dream world. That was why a few seconds after he shut his eyes; he wasn't surprised to see Cas standing alone for the first time in the middle of what could only be a nice apartment.

_Finally!_ Dean wanted to scream because it was just the two of them and nothing would come in-between them and consummating their dream relatio-

"Come on Cas we both know you can't catch me." Said a voice in a quiet chuckle, Dean heard the unmistakable sound of running footsteps down the hall to the living room. He looked around what could only be a completely normal bland bedroom, but the voice, the voice he couldn't place. And wanted to whimper at the predatory look on Cas's face. So once again Dean was forced onto the sidelines. Yippee.

Cas let his primal instincts out as he gave chases following the sound of laughter and when he finally burst into his living room his mystery lover was standing on the other side of the coffee table which was sadly in shadow. Though he couldn't see his face he was able to see the teasing hand work its way down his T-shirt and lift it off the drool worthy body. Cas finally moved, darting around the coffee table and grabbing his lover by the waist, their lips collided messily but Cas gave no measure and instead demanded entrance mapping the inside of the other's mouth. His lover moaned and rocked his hips against the other man and in delight he loosened his hold, which was all the other needed. With another laugh he was on the other side of the coffee table taking off his pants; face obscured by his brown hair.

Cas let out what could only be described as a snarl and unbuttoned his own shirt to join the growing pile of discarded clothes. He lover groaned, "Come on Cas catch me, _claim me_."

"You're mine!" Dean was surprised by the intensity of the statement, "The limp you are always walking around with, the hickeys that adorn your neck, the handprint burnt onto your arm, the fact that no other man can ever touch you? All that just shows that you are and always will be mine."

His lover let out a whimper and said the three words which sealed his fate, "Claim what's yours…"

Cas lunged and managed to tackle him against the floor, he was pleased to notice that he completely covered him, but that thought was overrun by the need to claim the man below him. Cas nearly devoured the other man's mouth; it was hot, wet and vicious. He only stopped to trail kisses down the other's neck which brought out small whimpers, Cas couldn't seem to help himself and bit down hard on one of the already formed bruises which resulting in a back arching near scream. As much as he loved to hear the others sound Cas reached his left hand up and speared three fingers into his mouth, muffling his noises but he more than made up for it licking around the fingers occupying his mouth. Cas deemed his fingers wet enough and trailed them down his body.

"Cas!" he gasped, "Please please stop teasing!"

Cas finally pressed one finger against his entrance and felt him try to press down on it, "Come on! You fuck me enough two fingers please two fingers." He panted. Cas acquiesced and speared two fingers into his body.

"Yesss…." He hissed moving eagerly against the fingers, "Cas fuck me!"

Cas withdrew his fingers, grabbing the other man's hip and slowly eased his way inside starting a slow steady rhyme. The other didn't seem to appreciate that and started to impale himself on Cas's cock.

"You are supposed to fuck me!" he snapped.

He accepted the challenge and slammed in, _hard_ making him howl. Cas stopped afraid that he had hurt him, when he scooted out from under Cas and ran to the kitchen. That was the final straw for Cas, with a cry of frustration he leapt at him, grabbing his lover's hips hard enough to bruise and threw him over the counter where his feet couldn't reach the ground. The other scrambled for purchase on the black marble but found none.

"You!" –a hard thrust into the man- "Need" –a hand wound in his hair forcing his head up- "To stop fucking running AWAY!" – a harsh bite to the neck.

Cas released his head as both hands moved to grab hips. He screamed out as Cas thrust in as hard as he could, repeatedly slamming in to the hilt. Meeting him thrust for thrust.

"Cas!" he screamed. "Fuck!"

Cas continued to growl, his hips moving faster. He was completely gone now, too focused on the tight, warm ass before him, bent over the counter. Cas could tell the other was so close, he just needed a little bit more to push him over the edge. Leaning in next to his ear he whispered and placing his hand on the handprint seared into the other's flesh, "You're mine."

That did it.

The other screamed out his passion as the waves of pleasure washed over him. His body continued to spasm as the pleasure reached an unbearable level, bordering on pain. Cas continued to thrust a couple more times before he finally stiffened, exploding deep inside.

Finally satiated he rested against the other trying to get his breathing evened out.

"Cas, I love you."

Cas smiled and pressed a kiss to sweaty brown locks, turning his mystery lover over to look into deep green eyes.

"Dean, I lo-"

RING!

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" Dean jerked up faster than he had ever before, ready to destroy what the fuck ruined what turned out to be an amazing fan-fucking-tastic dream and the revelation that for _weeks_ he had been dreaming about Cas fucking him. Which rocked now as a voyeur's point of view, but not so much in real life. He wanted to _feel_ Cas's cock splitting him open, to know exactly how it felt to be owned by such a powerful being. And the still fucking ringing phone could jump off a building for all he cared.

RING!

Heaving out a sigh Dean turned to answer his cellphone and to his surprise noticed that it was from none other than Meg, and didn't that get his heart pumping?

"Hello."

"Ah did I wake up poor wittle Dean?" came the condescending drawl from the other side of the line.

Dean ran a hand over his face, trying to pray for patience, because really he was trying to have a mental freak out here and dealing with Meg wasn't really helping.

"What the hell do you want?"

He could hear Meg heave out a little sigh, not that he really cared that he was being rude to her. She was a bitch AND a demon, what did she expect from him?

"I just wanted to let you know that the little Angel that could is awake, completely crazy free."

Dean drowned out everything else she said after that. Cas was back. CAS was back. Nothing else mattered. Not even the confusing as fuck dreams and feelings that he had been having.

"-also he said something about trying to reach you through your dreams these past weeks but you didn't want to listen to talk? I don't know it was weird angel shit and I really don't care-"

Dean's feeling of euphoria dropped off pretty quickly. So he hadn't been dreaming about Cas, he was really there? That meant he had seen and done and oh good god.

Well shit. Cas and he were going to have to have a chick flick talk when he came back. Then Dean was going to have Cas fuck him till he didn't remember his own name. You know what, the talking could wait.

Meg was still talking, "Shut up. I'm coming to get him. Alone."

_Yes_, Dean thought with a slight smirk, _we need to renew our profound bond_.

* * *

Author's note:

So first Supernatural fic I wrote, so review if you want! It would really help! And if you are reading this I assume that you read the whole thing, so thanks! Have a great day!


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